


Familial Magic

by mayghaen17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Curses, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Familial magic, Friends to Lovers, Harmony - Freeform, Jamione - Freeform, Magical Marriage, Multi, Ritual Magic, Sex Magic, Soul Magic, Triad - Freeform, forced bonds, magical au, sacrificial magic, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24839032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayghaen17/pseuds/mayghaen17
Summary: Hermione is dying and a bizarre ritual might be the only thing that saves her. But a forged dyad with Harry isn't quite strong enough to keep the curse at bay. A triad, however, will do the trick. But not just any triad, no. One comprised of familial magic seems to be just what they need and there's only one relative of his left for them to ask. James.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/James Potter, Hermione Granger/James Potter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal Alpha love to honeysweetcutie. She gets me.
> 
> Fancast for James will forever be Garret Hedlund.
> 
> Join me over on FB at madrose_writing for my info and updates! Currently, this is not a project I have anything prewritten for, so as soon as I write the next installment, I shall post it :)

****

**ONE**

Hermione watched the diagnostic spell as it twisted and shimmered in the air above her. Healer Arryn's brow had the same furrowed concentration that it always had; one that told Hermione all she needed to know.

"Any changes?" she asked as the spell dissipated.

Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry, but in light of recent events, it was near impossible to stop the tear that rolled down her right cheek. "Yesterday I tried to summon a book," she said with a sniffle. "But it barely moved from its spot on the shelf."

"When was the last time a spell was successful?" Healer Arryn asked, her quill scribbling notes over a piece of parchment at her side.

Hermione chewed at her bottom lip when it started to quiver. "Three days ago," she said after a moment, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"What spell was it?"

"Lumos."

And it had barely worked. The light that had appeared at the tip of her wand made it harder to see than had there been no light at all.

Healer Arryn nodded and gave Hermione a smile that she knew was meant to comfort, but when coupled with the hand on her forearm, she couldn't help the torrent of tears that flowed.

"It's gotten worse, hasn't it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm afraid so." She gave Hermione's forearm a light squeeze and then waved her wand in the air. A wispy, three dimensional version of Hermione's body appeared before their eyes, the curse in her system black against the otherwise white of the body. "The containment I placed on it two weeks ago is starting to lose its hold. I will place another one, but at this rate, I'm afraid it won't last more than another week at best."

"How long do I have now?"

The ghostly figure disappeared and Healer Arryn took a deep breath. "A month at best before it destroys your magical core," she replied, her smile grim. "Two to three before it takes your life."

Hermione nodded, her mind numb. She had heard that before. Had known it was only a matter of time before it reached this point. She had already been dealing with it for four months; two longer than they initially gave her when she first got cursed. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the chair and let the tears continue to flow. All the while listening to Healer Arryn chant rhythmically as she placed another containment charm around the curse inside of her.

* * *

Too scared to Apparate herself; the possibility of either being splinched, stuck somewhere, or both being all too likely, she enlisted Harry's help for travel. He was all too eager to jump at the chance to help her, still feeling guilty over what happened. They had been partners in the field, not that either of them would have it any other way.

On one mission they'd been investigating a small town in Wales. It was supposed to be a fact-finding mission, but instead they had stumbled across the source of the mysterious illness sweeping through the town. Instead of calling it in to the Department of Mysteries and sealing off the area, Hermione's curiosity had gotten the better of her. She'd gone against the feeling in her gut and touched the crystal growing out of the side of the tree. The curse being housed within transferred from it to her.

It wasn't Harry's fault, but he still assumed the blame. He said he should have insisted harder. That he should have protected her better. So instead, he did whatever he could to help. And when the curse started slowly eating away at her magic and her life in general, he was at her side, doing anything and everything that he could to help. The most recent being that he moved in with her. She had protested at first, insisting that she could take care of herself, but one night she'd been standing at her sink brushing her teeth before bed and the next Harry was kneeling over her, whispering spells to remove blood and mend her skin with shaky breath and tears in his eyes.

She hadn't protested since.

Immediately following her session with Healer Arryn, she found Harry in the lobby where she'd left him and asked to go to a few of the remaining bookstores on her list. She had already gone to most of the wizarding bookstores that she knew of, but each time she went, someone was able to recommend at least one she hadn't heard of. Today, her mission was to visit at least two or three of them. Just as he always did, Harry obliged without a word and stayed out of her way when she entered research mode.

Later that night, she finally took a break from diving into her new materials so she could sip at the bowl of soup Harry had brought for her. At least her stomach wasn't rioting about food today. Then again, she was always a bit stronger for a few days after having the containment charm replaced. With her eyes glued to the book she had just set down, she ate carefully; spoonful by spoonful.

"Hermione?"

Slowly, she turned her head towards Harry where he sat in the chair perpendicular to her spot on the couch. She gave him a soft smile, hoping it would deflate the worry that knit his brows together.

"Did you find something?" he asked, his gaze flickering toward the object holding so much of her attention.

She swallowed hard, her gaze averting from his. She _had_ found something. And as promising as it sounded, she knew the moment she told him he would volunteer. It wouldn't have been the worst situation to find themselves in, but it was a strange one; one that could never be undone. The last thing she wanted to do was take advantage of his kindness or his guilt in such a manner.

"Hermione, if you've found something-"

"I did," she interrupted, her voice low as she fed herself another spoonful. "I'm just working over the logistics first."

His eyes widened in surprise. She sighed and gestured towards the book. She watched as he set his soup down to pick up the tome and turn to the page she instructed him to. She looked away then, focusing on her soup as he read. From the corner of her eye she could see him slowly understand just what it was she had found. She also saw the moment he stared at her, his gaze raking over her once or twice before setting the book back down.

"Okay."

"Harry-"

"If you think this will work, Hermione, I'll do it. I'll do anything I can to save you."

Her hands began to shake, the soup sloshing around in her bowl. Harry was there, taking it from her, setting it next to his. A moment later he was on his knees before her, his hands holding tight to both of hers over her lap.

"You spent seven years risking your life for mine, Hermione. We went through hell and back together and came out stronger for it in the end. I already lost Ron," he said, his voice cracking. "I can't lose you too."

"Ron wasn't your fault, Harry." Both of them wept at the memory of their friend. From the moment he took his own life after the war, unable to cope with his grief, both Harry and Hermione had clung to one another. Even two years later, they still felt as though a part of them were missing; that their trio was incomplete. "We couldn't have saved him anymore than you could have saved me in Wales."

They were silent a moment, their tears splashing across their joined hands. "Do you think this will work?"

"I'm not sure," she whispered. "But it isn't the first time I've seen it mentioned." If it didn't, well, she had already made her peace with the notion that she would be dead before the end of the year. "If it backfires, you could die too."

"If you die, there won't be anything left to live for."

"That's not true and you know it," she said, her voice a bit harsh. She extracted her hands from his and cupped his face, tilting it back so she could stare down into his eyes. "My parents will never get their memories back and without Ron, the only person I have left is you, Harry. But you," she whispered, her thumbs wiping away a few of his tears. "You still have a father. He needs you; you're all _he_ has left."

He smiled up at her before he brought his hands up to rest on top of hers before he leaned into her touch. "Then I guess you better get this to work," he murmured.

She smiled back at him. "No pressure, right?"

He huffed a laugh as he pulled away only to sit next to her on the couch instead of going back to his chair. "If there's anyone who could figure it out, it would be you. Brightest witch of her age and all that."

She rolled her eyes and reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. She stared down at them as she asked, "You read the whole page right? You understand what being bound entails?"

She could hear the way he swallowed hard and how his fingers tightened against hers for a split second. "Yes."

"Are you sure? Harry this is-"

"I know what it means, Hermione," he interrupted, his voice firm. "And I don't care. I told you; I'll do whatever's necessary to make sure you have the life you were meant to." She followed the motion of their joined hands as he lifted them to his lips. The feel of them brushing over her knuckles did something to her she hadn't thought was possible. "Just tell me what you need and when you need it by."

She swallowed hard over the increase of her heartrate, hoping he couldn't hear the way it hammered against her chest. "The full moon is four days from now. The ritual says it will work best then. There's a list of what we need for the binding ceremony on the page before it."

"Then I'll go shopping tomorrow and get everything," he said as he gently put her hand down.

She simply nodded as he handed her her bowl again. They both resumed eating their meal, but this time in complete silence as they thought about what was to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

The day of the full moon, Hermione and Harry had exhausted quite a bit of energy setting everything up. The ritual they were about to perform had three distinct parts to it. Each of which were draining in on their own. It would be a sheer miracle if they not only pulled this off, but survived it as well. Knowing that time was of the essence once they started, Hermione looked around the salted circle they had drawn around them to contain the magic they were trying to raise and made sure everything was there.

Confirming that they had their wands, the athame, and the spells written down and placed for easy access, Hermione finally allowed herself to look at Harry standing just inside the circle across from her. Candles were at the four points of the circle, representing the seasons and their corresponding direction. There was also sage burning as well as whatever Muggle magic they had stumbled across. There was no evidence that it would work, but it gave them hope regardless.

"Ready?" he asked her.

She had already asked him a thousand times that day if he knew what it meant. That he was aware of what he was getting himself into. He had assured her every which way that he was sure and that there was nothing she could do to deter him. So instead of asking yet again, she nodded and began to disrobe.

She heard him swallow hard as he began to copy her movements. They let their clothes pool at their feet, and no matter how awkward it was to undress in front of one another, neither stopped until they were stripped bare. A blush turned both of them red as they let their eyes roam before meeting briefly, only to avert a moment later. Over the course of their friendship, they had caught glimpses of one another; it was hard not to when they shared so much time in cramped quarters together. Especially while on the run in Seventh Year, but this was the first time they were doing this on purpose.

But given that this was only the beginning, Hermione forced herself to relax. She could tell that Harry was going through the same thought process and she waited until his fists unclenched and his arms hung limply at his sides before she dared look up to meet his gaze again. With a small nod of her head, she moved towards the center of the circle and knelt on the blanket they had laid there. He joined her, both of them gasping rather loudly when his knee brushed hers in the process.

She gave a shy smile before reaching over and grasping her wand. She waited for him to take up his own and when they were ready, they pointed them at her chest. "On three," she whispered.

He nodded and glanced over at the spell they were supposed to chant in tandem for the first part of the ritual. Once he had it down, Hermione began the countdown. As soon as the world, "Three," slipped from her lips, they began.

The magic that shot forth from the tips of their wands was silvery blue, much like that of a Patronus. She pushed with everything that she had, determined to make her magic cooperate with her or this. She inhaled sharply as the two strands met and penetrated her skin. The sensation was cold and brought forth a shiver down her spine. The first chant faltered slightly as their magic searched for the curse. There was a sharp pain that spread through her body once the curse was found. It fought back against the spell, making it harder to breathe. She grit her teeth and nodded when Harry's gaze sought hers, his emerald eyes full of concern. So they pushed on, chanting until she felt the curse give way to the magic.

They gave their final chant and a moment later, her wand slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground at her side. Harry's hand shook from exertion as well, but he was able to set his wand down without dropping it. When she looked up, there were beads of sweat that had already formed on his brow and he was breathing hard, though not nearly as hard as she was.

With the curse contained, they had a small window to enact the second part. According to everything she could find, there was not set amount of time; that it varied from ritual to ritual, but the gist was the same no matter what. The faster the better. If the curse broke free from its confinement, she would be too weak to stop it from killing her. There were no second chances.

It was what propelled her forward when Harry's nerves kept him rooted to his spot. Despite the weakness of her body; of the way it demanded rest, she pushed up on her knees and leaned over to him until her lips could pillow against his. Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of Ron, but no matter how hard she tried to shove those thoughts away, they refused to go. So she did her best to ignore them as she swiped her tongue along the seam of Harry's lips until they parted and allowed her entry.

He was slow to return her kisses as he wrestled with his own inner turmoil. She wished she had purposed getting familiar with this part of the ritual before enacting it. Perhaps then it wouldn't be so awkward between them. To speed things up, she reached for one of his hands and brought it to her chest. He tensed at first, but she refused to let go, waiting until he cupped her breast and began to knead it of his own volition. And when she dared to let go, her hand continued to move until it was wrapping around his length. He groaned into her mouth, his skin warming beneath her touch as he thrust once against her palm.

That was all it took for him to surrender; for the awkward tension to fade as he surged forward. He guided her onto her back, her hair fanning out around the pillow they had laid down atop to the blanket. She planted her feet on the ground, her bent knees shifting so he could rest in between the cradle of her thighs. She arched up beneath him when she felt his brush against her core.

He loomed over her, bracing himself on one forearm near her head so that his other hand could skim down her side until it settled between her legs. Her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in her bottom lip as he slid a finger through her slit. She heard his breath catch from above her as he pushed his finger into her entrance; both of them groaning at how her body immediately clamped down around him.

Her body trembled something fierce as he added a second finger and curled them to add just enough pressure. Her nails dug into whatever parts of him she could reach as he worked up a rhythm that made her senses fail. She knew that in order for her to reach the peak of her release; to access the burst of magic that rose with it, she had to relax. But the ritual had implied that unless they came together, it wouldn't take. So when it became clear that she was close, she squirmed away from his touch and placed her hand on his forearm.

He was reluctant to pull away, but he did. He was, however, quick to replace his fingers with the head of his cock. It notched at her entrance and he gave one last look at her for confirmation. The moment she nodded; gaze locked with his, he pushed forward. He went slow, a deep sigh coming from both of them as she felt every inch of him stretching her to accommodate the size of him. And when there was nothing left of him to take, he stilled, giving them both a moment to adjust.

His hips lifted and he drew back, nearly all the way out of her. Just as she started to groan from the loss of him, he pushed his way back in. She wasn't sure if it was possible, but each time he repeated the action, she felt fuller than before. It wasn't long before his rhythm increased and once again, the pressure of her release began to build. With it being easier to reach the athame, she pushed at Harry until he took the hint and rolled so that she was on top instead.

She cried out at the depth of which the switch of their positions allowed him to hit, but once she adjusted, she leaned to the side and grabbed the instrument needed to complete the ritual. He placed one hand on her hip, steadying her as she continued to roll her hips above him while he held up the other. She cut her palm first, the blood dripping down her arm as she grunted from the pain. Her rhythm lapsed for a moment as she dragged the same blade across his palm. He inhaled sharply, making a hissing sound.

She grabbed his hand, their blood mixing between the wounds, seeping into one another to bind them as one. She could feel herself cresting and when she locked eyes with Harry, he nodded, letting her know he was on the verge as well. When she couldn't hold it any longer, she tipped her head back and said the spell that would complete the third ritual at the height of the second. He spoke them at the same time, just as he had before. They both found it difficult to speak as they came together, but they managed. Neither one of them stopped speaking either until he stopped pulsing within her and the tremors of her own release slowly began to fade.

But neither of them moved. His hand tightened in hers as he grimaced beneath her. She could feel the binding as their magical cores reached out for one another's. The air around them was so thick with magic that she swore she saw the moment their cores reacted to the ritual and bound themselves together for all eternity.

She wasn't sure what to expect once the ritual was complete. Other than the exhaustion trying to force her eyes closed, she felt about the same, if not weaker. But the longer she stared down at Harry, the harder it was to remain upright. She saw his lips move, but whatever he said fell on deaf ears and after a moment of blurry vision, she pitched forward. Whether Harry caught her or the ground did, she never knew.

* * *

When Hermione came to next, she was lying on one of the exam tables in St. Mungo's. Healer Arryn was performing a series of diagnostic spells while standing to her right and Harry was sitting in a chair off to the left. He had his head down, staring at the hands that he continuously wrung in his lap while his legs bounced with nervous energy.

"Mister Potter tells me you did something experimental," Healer Arryn said, her body language unchanging despite her patient having suddenly woken.

"Did it work?" she asked, her voice nothing more than a croak.

"See for yourself," Healer Arryn said as she angled the projection of her body up so she could see it better.

Hermione scanned the projection, her eyes going wide at the sight. The curse was still there, but it was less than half the size it had been before. And where it had previously been black with thick tendrils searching for a way to destroy her from within, it was nothing but a dull, faded grey with weak wisps that barely formed.

"Mister Potter tells me that you modified my containment charm and were able to tap into enough raw power from your core to establish a bond between the two of you."

Hermione nodded, tearing her gaze away from the weakened curse to inspect Harry. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to run to her side, but refraining as he didn't want to interrupted the healer. "I'm fine. She checked me out once we knew you were stable."

"It did work, Miss Granger," Healer Arryn assured her, drawing her attention back from Harry. "What you did was risky. Soul magic and life bonds are tricky enough on their own, but using sex magic to obtain the power required could have killed you." She sent a disapproving look towards Harry who averted his gaze as his cheeks turned pink. " _Both_ of you."

"But it worked," Hermione breathed, watching as the projection disappeared from Healer Arryn having withdrawn the spell.

"Regardless, I would like you to come in weekly so that I can monitor the stability. Should either of you feel anything, no matter how minor you deem it, come in right away." Her quill made notes on her parchment as she reached for Hermione's hand and guided her to her into a sitting position. "There are some potions I'll give you before you leave, but I heavily advise you both take a few days to do nothing. Let the magic settle. It may have worked so far, but there's always a chance it could reject. Typically those bonds work best with two points of binding, not one. Not to mention that forcing them while cursed could have had a very different end result."

"Thank you, Healer Arryn," Hermione whispered, nodding along with the warnings.

Once she had her potions in hand her next appointment scheduled, Harry was at her side. He took her hand in his and led her towards the lobby where they used the Floo to return home. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Just to sleep," she said, holding up the vials. "Real sleep, not the rest I got from passing out."

"You do know what his means right?" he asked, bringing their joined hands up against his chest. "Now that it worked and we didn't die?"

Her brows furrowed as she tried to come up with the answer he was looking for, but failed in the end.

"Now we have to tell my dad that we got married without inviting him."

It took a moment for her to realize what he'd said. When she did, she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled past her lips and he was quick to join her. "We didn't get _married_ , Harry."

"Not exactly, but from what I understand, the bonds we formed are permanent. A magical marriage, if you will."

She hadn't quite thought of it that way, but he was right. "I'm sorry."

"For what? I knew what I was getting into and I couldn't be happier," he said, ducking his head in so he could capture her lips. "And as soon as I stop feeling like Malfoy being stomped on by a Hippogriff, I'll buy you a ring and make it official."

"Thank you for saving my life, Harry."

"Thank you for always saving mine first," he replied.

When the moment passed, he led her towards the room that she supposed was now theirs instead of just hers. They undressed, no longer embarrassed about being bare in front of one another, and then crawled into bed. She sipped her potions and relaxed into his embrace. Whether it was the warmth of his body, the potions, or the lull of their magical bonds, she wasn't sure, but it wasn't long before she drifted off into a blissful state of slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

It took a whole month before Hermione could do simple spells again; things that she had learned just from reading her textbooks before boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time. The day her wand cooperated, she had cried out in surprise. Harry had bolted into the living room from the bedroom, clearly prepared for the worst. But when he saw her crying over the _Lumos_ at the end of her wand, he wept with her out of joy. They celebrated their success that night in a way that replicated parts of the ritual. Only that time, there was no need to rush.

The two months that followed, Hermione felt her magical core getting stronger. There were still some spells that were too draining, but with practice, she knew she would get there. According to Healer Arryn, the curse was still in its reduced state and hadn't spread at all since the ritual. And when Hermione woke the morning after what should have been her last day, she felt the strongest she had since contracting the curse in the first place.

The only thing that worried her was Healer Arryn's mixed feelings on the state of the curse. She was happy with the fact that it hadn't gotten worse, but she wasn't pleased with the fact that it hadn't dissipated either. Hermione remembered her warnings about a dyad not being quite enough, but it was doing the job at the current moment.

Harry's agreement to share his life force, his magical core, and his soul with her though the bond was more than she could have asked for. She herself had been skeptical going in, not quite understanding the magic involved, but it had worked. The explosion of magic they had created during the ritual had been enough to keep her from dying. She would forever be in his debt.

And when she did more research into it, she found that he was right. That by creating those types of bonds, by all accounts of magic, they were married. True to his word, he bought her a ring and they made it official by having a ceremony once they were sure that it worked. Together, they overcame the awkwardness of the way the ritual had been performed and despite the fact that repeating a physical bond wasn't necessary, they found themselves regularly happy to do so anyway.

While many were happy for them; for the way they complimented each other, loved each other, and how Harry had saved her, there was one in particular that was not. James. He had fully understood just what they had done and the repercussions should it have failed them that night. He was happy in the sense that he was glad it worked out for them, but he was livid that Harry had risked his life yet again; this time for _her_.

James was nice to both of them about it once the initial shock wore off, but she could tell a part of him resented her for putting Harry in that position. She tried to assure him that it wasn't she who suggested it, but he knew Harry just as well as she had. There was no way he would have let her die without doing whatever it took to try and save her. As time went on, his anger lessened towards them, but every now and then, she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her.

Hermione would never voice it to Harry, but no matter how much time had passed, she continued to feel guilty. She kept thinking about the what-ifs of that day. That what if the curse decided to come back with a vengeance and they both died anyway. That if it did, it would be here fault that James' only son would be taken from. Just as his wife had been taken in the first war.

Yet still, life moved on. Hermione continued to heal and get stronger thanks to Harry. And the two of them eventually went back to normal routines though she stayed at home instead of returning back to the Ministry for work. It was too risky. Even Harry had left his position as Auror and decided to take up something less demanding. He had a desk job in a different department and while it wasn't what he set out to be, he was happy so long as they were both safe.

It was exactly ten months after the ritual had been performed that Healer Arryn's fear came to light.

At her check up, Hermione's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the curse in her scan. It hadn't grown, but where it had been grey and weak before, it was now pure black as it once had been. The tendrils that had been reduced to wisps were now reforming and would soon be seeking to destroy her both magically and physically.

But this time, it wasn't just her she had to protect; it was Harry too. With them being bonded, the curse was free to seek him out at any time and cause the same damage. So Healer Arryn began to monitor him too; the two of them going in as often as they could to make sure the curse was still just inside of Hermione.

Unfortunately, even with the monitoring and the lack of presence in Harry's scans, it wasn't long before his magic began to falter, same as hers. It had happened within a few hours of each other. Hermione had stepped out of the shower to dry her hair with her wand, but only half of head dried while the rest continued to drip down over her towel-clad body. Later that morning, just before lunch, Harry had been using magic to set the table, but instead of gliding through the air, the dishes simply moved off the counter and shattered on the ground.

Hermione did what she was best at and threw herself into research again. If she didn't find something and soon it would be over and his death would be her fault. The downside was that she had looked extensively before and was lucky to found what she had then. She doubted she would find much more the second time around. Especially not when the timeline looked to be much shorter than the last one.

The only difference this time was that she geared her research to triads. She hoped that there was something to Healer Arryn having said that two points of binding were better than one. So far, everything she came across reiterated that. That triads were more stable; especially if there was anything off about the point of origin. Hermione took that as her being the point of origin and the curse being what was destabilizing them at the moment.

It would have been easier if she knew what the curse was, but just like the one Dolohov had hit her with in the Department of Mysteries all those years ago, it would forever remain nameless.

One day, she gathered up the courage to ask Healer Arryn about the probability of one more person being enough. She wasn't about to add a third to their dynamic if there was a chance that it could happen again. The last thing she wanted was anyone else to die because of her.

"You said a triad would stabilize the bond?" she asked.

Healer Arryn didn't even pause in her wand work to look at Hermione. "I said it was typically best to have two points of binding. There is no guarantee. For this curse, it might take twenty people before it can be eradicated." She did look at Hermione then, fixing her with a hard stare. "I've never seen anything like this curse before, Hermione. You were lucky that it worked with Harry. And while there is a chance a third might be the missing piece to stabilize, there is no guarantee."

Hermione nodded, her spirits deflating a little. She knew that too, but hearing it out loud made it seem more real. "Is there a certain type of person I should be looking for? Maybe a way to test compatibility beforehand?"

For a brief moment, her mind conjured the image of Ron and it brought tears to her eyes. Had he still been alive, he would have done the ritual with her right away instead of Harry. And had they needed a third, he would have been the first to ask Harry to join them. But he was gone and there was no one else she trusted like Harry to ask.

There was no one else that would be willing to take that risk for either of them.

"No," Healer Arryn said after a moment, though the look in her eyes gave Hermione a sliver of hope. "But in terms of compatibility, there is one option you could look into."

Hermione blinked as she held her breath while waiting for an answer.

"Familial magic."

* * *

For all the lack of information she had found about how to cure herself, Hermione discovered there was even less out there on the topic of familial magic. Most of it was fleeting passages in hard to find books, but it was there. From what she was able to ascertain, there was definite truth to it.

It turned out that those within the same bloodline were already bound in a similar fashion to the one she had forced with Harry during her ritual. But it only worked with those directly related. For instance, siblings were a strong route as they were created with two distinct branches of magical bloodlines. Cousins were good if there weren't any siblings, but only first cousins and they both had to have the ability to wield a wand. It wasn't that much of a shock to discover that parent and child bonds were the strongest, but she did read the passage several times. Each time she read, a knot formed in her stomach.

And seeing as Harry didn't have either of the former, Hermione didn't want to even try to bring it up to him. Not only did she know he would ask James for his help, but if he accepted, and he would because he would do anything for his son, it meant she would have to recreate the ritual and bind herself to him too. And all under the guise of hope and no actual guarantee that any of it would work.

Under the small chance that it didn't and they all died, she would be responsible for wiping out the Potter family line.

But one day, she had woken from a nap to find her notes misplaced and though Harry never mentioned it, she knew what was coming. It was no surprise when Harry went out with some coworkers another night that her Floo roared to life. Nor was it a surprise when she looked up to see James stepping off the grate, vanishing soot from his person.

"Harry showed you what I found, didn't he?" she asked, not bothering to exchange pleasantries first.

He responded with a simple incline of his head as he sank onto the chair close to her spot on the couch. "What I would like to know is why I didn't hear it from you," he said. "Or why Harry had to tell me you were hiding your notes in the first place."

Her gaze dropped to the space between them as she shifted in her seat. "This isn't exactly a conversation that one wants to have with their husband," she said, her voice tight. "Especially not when the only person that can help is his father." She did look up at him then, a sad smile on her lips. " _Especially_ when you aren't all that fond of me to begin with."

He held her gaze for a moment and then sighed. "That's not true, Hermione. I know how much you mean to my son," he said, leaning away from her so he could prop his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. "I know that if it weren't for you, he wouldn't still be here."

"And now because of me, there's a chance he might die anyway."

"Not if I can help it."

She swallowed hard and shifted in her seat again. Subconsciously, she pulled the blanket tighter around her waist and then let her fingers drop to pluck at the pills in the fabric. "I can't ask you to-"

"You didn't," he replied, cutting her off. "Ask, that is. And neither did Harry. But I'm familiar with this type of magic and I've done my own research."

She closed her eyes and shuddered; a sense of guilt washing over her.

"I would rather we try and all die together if this doesn't work than not try at all. I don't want to lose either of you."

Hermione gave a small nod as she continued to stare at the floor. If he had done his research and seen her own notes, he knew exactly what it was that needed to be done. What they would have to do together in order to forge a bond identical to the one she had created with Harry. And whether it worked for a day, a month, or the rest of their lives, she would be bound to both of them; magic, body, and soul.

After a long bout of silence, he rose to his feet. He came to stand before her and she stilled as his hand curved over her shoulder. "The full moon is next week."

There was no need to say anything else. She understood that it was his way of leaving the decision with her. She nodded, but kept her gaze on the floor. It was when she heard him dig into the bowl of Floo powder beside the fireplace that she looked up, eyes on his back.

"I'll make the preparations."

He nodded and without turning back to say goodbye, he shouted his address and disappeared in a burst of green flames.


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Shortly after James had disappeared in a plume of green flames, Hermione had set to work. The first thing she did was copy down the spell they would have to say during the ritual. With Harry, there had been even less time to prepare. This time, she wanted James to know every step of the ritual so that he was prepared. He said he had read the passage Harry had taken from her notes and that he was familiar with the ritual, but she wanted to leave nothing to chance.

She was still up writing it all down when Harry returned that night. He hadn't even asked if she wanted help before he sat beside her to start making copies of it as well. Before they went to sleep for the night, they sent off their owl. The next morning, Hermione woke up early and set about getting everything she needed. Throughout the week and several trips to the store later, all she had to do was set up.

As each day passed, Hermione found it harder and harder to be around Harry. He was trying his hardest to pretend that everything was fine; that the upcoming Full Moon would pass just like any other night. They hadn't even discussed if he was going to be home or where he would be if he decided to leave. Nor had Hermione even let herself think about whether or not James would leave after it was over or if he would stay. Then again, the last time, Hermione had passed out right after the ritual and Harry had had to take her to St. Mungo's.

She made a mental note to tell that to James before they started.

Hermione, on the other hand, did everything she could to avoid Harry. She couldn't look him in the eye and if they were in the same room for more than a few minutes, she felt as though the tension between them was going to choke her. Sleeping in the same bed was the hardest and no matter what she did to keep from doing it, she would end up crying. Harry was there every time, pulling her to him and holding her while she cried herself to sleep.

It was the after that she was worried about. By completing the ritual with Harry, she had effectively become his wife. Repeating all the steps with James would make her _his_ wife as well. How any of them would be able to carry on as normal was beyond her. She couldn't even fathom any of it let alone having to try and navigate it afterwards. And if doing this with James still didn't eradicate the curse…

The pressure was crushing.

Harry found her in the spare bedroom where she was setting up. James had offered the use of his house, but the idea of going over there, of seeing him before the Full Moon wasn't something Hermione was prepared to deal with. Instead, Harry had cleared out the room so they could make it work. She was just closing the lid on the container of salt, having finished making the circle in the middle of the floor. She turned to look at Harry then, but immediately looked away at the sight of blankets and pillows in his arms.

"Lunch is ready," he said as he continued on, treading carefully so as not to disturb the salt on the ground.

Hermione nodded, watching from the corner of her eyes as he laid out the blankets. The moment he put the first one down, she felt nausea work its way up her throat. "Stop."

He simply shook his head and ignored her in favor of continuing to make a comfortable space for her and James later. "It's fine, Hermione."

"No," she whispered. "It really isn't."

Yet, he carried on as though she hadn't spoken at all. Hermione felt paralyzed in the storm of emotions that flooded her system as she watched him. When he was finished, he turned towards her, seemingly unphased by her reaction and wrapped his arms around her. "Hey," he murmured, his hands stroking her skin in a soothing manner as he held tight. "We're doing this for you; because you're worth saving. Because you deserve to be saved."

"I didn't ask-"

"We know," he said, pressing his lips to her temple. "You've never asked me for anything before and that's why I'm doing this." He sighed and she burrowed deeper into his embrace. "My only regret about this is that I wasn't enough to get rid of your curse. That will forever be my _only_ regret, Hermione."

She barely had the energy to sob; instead, she could only shed a single tear.

He gave her another light squeeze and then pulled back. He took the salt from her and set it down with the other supplies she had yet to set up. "Let's go down and eat, yeah? Afterwards I'll finish setting up and you can get some rest before…" He gave a shrug when his voice trailed off and took her hand as she nodded.

* * *

Ultimately, they had decided Harry would be staying in the house while her and James completed the ritual. She had tried to convince him to leave, that if she passed out again, James would be there to take her to St. Mungo's. Harry argued that it wasn't good enough. That if something happened, he wanted to know about it right away. Hermione's stomach churned at the thought of him being right down the hall, but she knew better than to keep trying to change his mind. Once he was set on something, that was it.

Even with that knowledge wreaking havoc on her system, she was still able to slip into a nap while Harry took over making the final preparations. He promised to wake her an hour before James was set to come over so she could do one last check. After having done so, she retreated back to the room to take a shower and have a few last moments to herself.

Harry was in their room when she emerged from the on-suite bathroom. He was perched on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands; his elbows resting on his knees. She cleared her throat and his attention snapped over to her, taking in the sight of her in her robe with hair she had just finished blow drying. He swallowed nervously and got to his feet, stopping halfway in his approach to her.

"Is he-"

"Yeah," he replied, smiling awkwardly from having cut her off. "Healer Arryn's on shift at St. Mungo's and she's ready for us at any time."

"I think we should go even if I don't pass out."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I was planning on taking you anyway."

Her lips twitched as though they wanted to stretch into a smile, but it never formed. Instead, she simply nodded and took a deep breath. Her exhale was shaky and she took a step back as she started to shake her head. "Harry, I can't-"

"You _can_ , Hermione," he insisted, gathering her into his arms. "Whatever happens after… We'll figure it out. I can't lose you."

It was as if the tightness of his embrace was enough to put her back together. As if he were lending her his strength to get through this. She drew another deep breath and nodded against his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied.

She lingered in his arms for another moment before pulling away and heading towards the door. She kept her eyes forward, refusing to look back because if she did, she wouldn't be able to continue on. She waited until she heard the click of the door behind her and then resumed her walk down the hall to the spare bedroom. She could see the flickering shadows of the flames from the candles on the walls and smell the smoke from them as well as the sage.

Hermione forced herself not to hesitate as she rounded the corner and crossed the threshold. She kept her eyes down as she turned to close the door behind them, the sound making the decision final in her mind. She turned around and took a second to let her gaze flicker around the room. Once she went through her mental checklist to make sure everything was in place, she sought out James.

He was standing in the center of the salted circle. Her gaze, having already been towards the floor, landed on his bare feet. Whether he had taken them off before getting in the circle or simply hadn't worn them, she didn't know. She let her gaze drift up and when they roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, she realized the only thing he was wearing were his loungers.

When her eyes lifted to his face, she found that his was currently raking over her robe-clad form. As he brought his gaze back up, connecting with hers, he didn't react. There was no gesture of invitation; nothing to sway her decision to enter the circle willingly and of her own volition. When she moved, she felt as though someone was in control of her movements. She held his gaze the entire way and felt the magic of the circle accept her willingness when she stepped inside.

Two smaller steps were all it took for Hermione to be face-to-face with James. She tried to look away; to drop her gaze and attempt to hide, but his hazel eyes were mesmerizing and holding her captive. She knew she was trembling and that there was nothing she could do to tamper her nerves. She jumped when she felt his hand come up and cup her face. His touch was light as his thumb brushed across the cheek. "Relax, Hermione," he murmured.

"Easier said than done," she whispered, her voice just as shaky as the rest of her.

The corners of his mouth lifted and his eyes brightened. "Would it help to know that I'm sorry?"

Her eyes went wide at that. "Sorry for what?"

"For making you think I didn't like you. That I blamed you for putting Harry in danger again. The kid's been in danger since he was born and he's too much like me. We can never be talked down from something when we know we can be part of the solution."

Hermione felt her own lips twitch and her body began to relax.

"I've always admired your strength and determination. The war could have easily broken you, but you never let it; not once. Even when it should have." He shifted closer and Hermione went still; nearly afraid to breathe. "You didn't ask either of us to help you, but we will. We _always_ will."

"But-"

"We didn't go into this blind," he interrupted. "You gave us every bit of research you had and made sure we knew exactly what to expect. We both know what happens next just as all _three_ of us know you're scared about what happens after."

Hermione swallowed hard and went to turn her head, but James' thumb slipped beneath her chin to keep her gaze on his.

"We all are," he told her, his lips stretching into a sad smile. "You and I will be bonded the same way you and Harry are. It won't be easy, but we will figure it out." Her lips parted to speak, but he rushed on before she could get out her first word. "And neither of us think you're taking away our choices. I was planning on remaining a bachelor for the rest of my days, but if changing that aspect of my life in order to save your life, I would gladly give it up."

His thumb continued to swipe across her cheeks, brushing away the tears that slid from the corners of her eyes.

"You're the most selfless witch I've ever met," he added, leaning in. "If anyone deserves to live, Hermione, it's you."

His lips had brushed against hers as he spoke, but at the end, he pressed them firmly against hers. She gasped in surprise, parting her lips even more. He took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss. Her eyes snapped shut as his tongue brushed against hers. His hand gripped at her cheek as his other came up to curl around her hip and tug her body flush against his. To steady herself, her hands came up to rest on his chest; his flesh warmer than she expected.

His hand slid back into her hair and cupped the back of her head as he took his time exploring her mouth. He was unhurried in his quest; as if they had all the time in the world. For a moment, even Hermione thought that was true as she surrendered herself to him. She could feel all the tension leaving her body as she concentrated on every stroke of their tongues; every nip of their lips.

Lost in his kiss, she hadn't even realized that his hand had left her hair and trailed down her side. She only noticed when she felt the tickle of his fingertips working their way down the ladder of her ribs. Yet, she continued to kiss him; slow and sweet. It wasn't until she felt a tug to the tie of her robe that she broke the kiss abruptly and placed her hands over his to quell his movements.

Her heart raced inside her chest as she fought to remind the rational side of her brain that this was part of the ritual. That he was about to bind his soul, magic, and life force with her. That in a few minutes from now, they would be forming said bonds by use of sexual magic. He was going to see her, touch her, and put her through the throes of passion.

She let out a slow, shaky breath, and removed her hands; nodding as her arms fell limp at her sides.

He leaned in until his lips found the side of her throat. She tipped her head back to give him better access and shivered as she felt his fingers pulling the knot of her robe loose. Her lashes fluttered against her cheek as she bit down on her bottom lip to stifle a moan as her robe parted. He nuzzled the column of her throat as his placed his hands on the bare skin of her hips.

Her breath hitched as his hands slowly began to ascend. She shivered as he skimmed the outside of her breasts and her entire body became riddled with gooseflesh. His hands finally stopped when they came up to curve around her shoulders and after a shaky inhale followed by a nod of her head from her, he pushed the robe back. It flowed down her arms until it dropped and pooled at her feet, leaving her bare before him.

Following the natural flow of events, she began to lift her arms with the intention of reaching out to level the playing field. Just before she made contact, she stilled; uncertain. It was as though all her Gryffindor bravery had up and left that very moment. James sensed it and placed his hands over hers with the gentlest of touches, guiding her the rest of the way until the heat of his skin seared the palms of her hands.

He had pulled his head back, straightening his stance once more. She dared a glance up at him and the moment their gazes met he inclined his head as if giving permission. She held his gaze for another moment and then let hers drift down his chest. Taking a slow, deep breath, Hermione curled her fingers along the waistband of his loungers and tugged.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she worked the garment off his hips, revealing parts of him she never would have seen otherwise. She tried not to look, but he was hard and weeping, drawing her attention anyway. Having pushed the material to a certain point, they fell down the rest of the way and he stepped out of them. He kicked them aside, careful not to the disturb the salt lines or anything else within them.

James reached for her hand then and began to kneel, drawing her with him to the floor. They faced each other as they sat back on their haunches and he grabbed their wands from the little table within the circle. She took hers when he offered and flashed him a nervous smile as a thank you. "Ready?" he asked.

Hermione wasn't sure she would ever be able that she was ready for something like this, but if she said no, that was it. Game over. So she nodded and pointed the tip of her wand at her chest and waited until he aimed his at the same spot. "On three," she said, recalling how she had said the same to Harry during their ritual.

He nodded and she began the countdown. Much like with Harry, her and James were in perfect sync. The moment she said, "Three," silvery-blue light burst forth and slipped through layers of skin and bone in search of the curse wreaking havoc on her system. She could feel the magic flowing through her as they chanted the spell over and over again. Each time she said it, the pain increased. It got to a point where she wasn't sure she could get the words out for fear of screaming when she next opened her mouth.

And that was before the spell had found the curse.

The pain only intensified once it had been pinned down and the containment began to take effect. She could feel her already slippery hold on her magic beginning to wane and it was harder than ever to keep her eyes open. All she wanted to do was lie down and rest, but she pushed herself further than ever before. It was a miracle she was still conscious when the curse was finally contained, but the moment she let go of her magic, she slumped forward.

James wrapped his arms around her, making sure she didn't fall to the side. "Stay with me, Hermione. I won't be able to do the next part if you pass out." She nodded as he lowered her onto her back, stretching her out atop the blankets. He stared down at her; concern blazing in his eyes.

Having been laid down, it was harder to fight the exhaustion. The blanket at her back clung to her from the sweat on her skin. But she was nothing if not determined. She refused to give in; to be the reason this failed. She forced her lungs to accept the deep breaths when they only wanted to accommodate small pants. She forced her heart rate to stabilize so she could focus on preparing her mind for what came next.

Ready as she would ever be, she met his gaze and nodded again. He understood; she could see it in the way his eyes darkened. The apple of his throat bobbed as he reached for her legs, parting them so he could move himself between them. Her hands gripped at the blanket beneath her as his skimmed up the skin of her thighs. Her back arched slightly as he ran a finger through her slit, finding the wet heat his earlier ministrations had caused.

Hermione couldn't stop the moan that slipped past her lips as he gathered her arousal and brought it up to circle the little bundle of her nerves that was begging for attention. He shifted his hand after a moment so that his thumb could continue rubbing her clit while he slipped his index and middle finger into her core and began to work her towards the brink faster than she ever thought possible.

Through a hooded gaze, she could see him staring back at her. His eyes had darkened so much the hazel was nearly all gone. There was a hunger there, one she never thought she would see from him. She held his gaze as she gnawed at her bottom lip. Her hips moved in rhythm with his hand, searching for release. And just as her mind began to prepare for the little death he was about to provide, he withdrew his touch.

He smirked faintly at the whine that left her throat, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he reached for her legs again, but this time, brought them up. He placed them straight up so that her feet framed her face while the backs of her thighs and calves rested against his chest. With one arm banded around her thighs to keep her in place, he reached down with his free hand and lined himself up.

They moaned in unison as he filled her. He went slow at first, letting her adjust to him and coat him with her arousal before he began to increase his pace. Once she was stretched out and filled to the brim, she canted her hips. With both arms around her thighs to steady himself, he began to move. He rocked against her in a way that left her writhing and arching off the floor. Having done so, the change of angle gave him deeper access, making them both moan in a lewd duet.

Hermione held back on her own release until she felt his hips began to stutter, making his thrusts more erratic. She reached for the athame they had placed near the pillow and dragged it across her palm, the opposite direction of the cut she had made when she bonded with Harry. While she did that, he let go of her legs, sliding forward a tad as they landed on either side of him. She planted her feet on the ground and waited for him to offer her his hand. When he did, she made the cut on him as well and laced their fingers together to establish contact.

A bright display of technicolor exploded behind her eyelids as she crested. He slammed his hips against hers and she heard him chanting along with her as her release sparked his own. A cry of surprise left her lips as she felt something break free inside of her. It was getting harder to continue the chant, but she managed, even as the sensation flowed through her system. It wasn't anything like she had felt the time the last time she had done this ritual. It worked its way to her arm and then began to travel down towards her hand; towards her connection with James.

The post-orgasmic fog in her brain began to clear and as the sensation began to fade as though it had left her body entirely to flow into his, Hermione realized what was happening. She heard what James was chanting and it wasn't the spell she had given him. He squeezed her hand tight so that she couldn't let go and break the connection. Panic began to bloom in her chest and she stopped chanting as his words turned into a sharp cry of agony. His body bowed and then he was falling back; his hand slipping from hers in the process.

Unsure if adrenaline was keeping her from passing out or if it was coming soon, she pushed herself up and knelt at his side. His breaths were shallow; his skin pale and clammy to the touch when she reached out for him. He reached up to place his hand over hers when it landed on his cheek. "Take care of each other. Always."

"James?" Her voice was high pitched with panic as his lashes fluttered. He took a deep breath and his hand slipped away from hers, having fallen slack like the rest of him. Tears clouded her vision as she realized the hazel eyes staring back at her were lifeless now. "James!"

Screams rent the air and she knew they were hers, but they were distant as her body began to shut down. Tears spilled down her face in rapid succession as she grabbed him by the shoulders and began to shake him. But all her efforts were futile, yet she continued to try. She only stopped when a pair of arms wound around her middle and pulled her away from him. She barely had time to realize it was Harry who had a hold of her before the ritual had taken its toll and exhaustion rose up to claim her as if she were a prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember that I love you all :)
> 
> .......and that there's only ONE chapter left!


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

_"Take care of each other. Always."_

_"James?" Her voice was high pitched with panic as his lashes fluttered. He took a deep breath and his hand slipped away from hers, having fallen slack like the rest of him. Tears clouded her vision as she realized the hazel eyes staring back at her were lifeless now._

"James!"

Hermione lunged into a sitting position as she screamed his name. Her hand went immediately to her face where his had slipped away from a moment ago only to discover it was a memory. Still in a panicked state of mind, she looked around. The realization that her spare bedroom with a circle drawn in salt and a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows were gone. Instead, she was in a patient room at St. Mungo's with the sterile scent of a hospital instead of burning sage and candle flames.

She brushed her hair away from her face and placed her hands on her stomach as she fought the wave of nausea. It was hard reliving the events she had most recently endured and matching them up to where she was now. Knowing Harry had been the one to bring her here sent a wave of grief that made her cry out as her heart broke all over again.

In the middle of her hyperventilation, Harry entered the room. He wasted no time in closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms. She clung to him as she buried her face into his chest and sobbed at the top of her lungs. She could hear his voice as he whispered things to her, most likely to calm her down, but she couldn't distinguish his words.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before there was nothing left in her system to cry out. It got to the point where Harry had crawled into the bed with her and held her to him. Slowly, the sobs had turned silent and when the tears ran out, the only thing left was the trembling of her body.

It was even long after that that she found the courage to say, "He's gone, isn't he." Her voice cracked from being so hoarse, but she didn't care.

Harry's arms tightened around her as he nodded; his cheek brushing against hers. "It wasn't your fault," he whispered. "Just…whatever you're thinking, I need you to know that, Hermione. It was _not_ your fault."

She nodded listlessly and closed her eyes though she didn't believe him. How could she? If it wasn't for her and the curse within, none of them would be in this situation. James would still be alive. Harry would have his father.

And as she went down a rabbit hole of grief and despair, it turned out she wasn't as done with crying as she had thought.

* * *

When Hermione woke next, Harry was still in the room, but he had moved to the chair beside the bed. And they weren't alone. Healer Arryn had joined them; a somber look on her face as she concentrated on the chart hovering in front of her. Her gaze flickered over to Hermione's for a moment and she nodded at finding her awake.

"How are you feeling right now, Miss Granger?"

 _Like I got run over by Thestrals and then held at the bottom of the Black Lake. Only this time, without the Bubble Head Charm_.

"How bad is it?" she asked, deciding to hold her tongue since she couldn't think of anything nice to say.

The chart floated through the air to land on the counter by the door. Healer Arryn stepped closer to her and moved her wand to conjure up the diagnostic projection of Hermione's internal being. "See for yourself."

Hermione's gaze was quick to dark around the projection as she sought out the dark mass that was the curse. It took her longer than she would have liked to admit to realize it was missing. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she inhaled sharply, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Harry had joined her at her side, staring up at the image as well. "I don't see anything," he said, confusion in his voice.

"That's because it's gone," Healer Arryn replied, confirming Hermione's thoughts.

But even then, it was hard to believe.

If the curse was gone; completely eradicated from her system, it meant James had done this. He had gone into the ritual knowing he wouldn't be walking out. That he had fulfilled his duty to her and his son by helping, but taking it further than he needed to. And now she would never know if the triad would have worked. If he hadn't strayed from the script and bonded with her, he would be there.

Knowing that didn't make his sacrifice better or worse. What did was as grief overwhelmed her once more, she noticed Harry standing stoically at her side. Even as he took her hand to lend her comfort, he barely reacted. It meant only one thing.

Harry knew.

* * *

After running a few more tests; all of which came back saying the curse was gone, Hermione was discharged and brought home. She was still in a state of shock and disbelief that she was curse free. There weren't even any lingering traces of it. As if it had never even been there in the first place.

Harry Apparated them directly into their bedroom once they arrived home by Floo from St. Mungo's. Without being asked, he sat her on the bench in front of the bed and went into the bathroom to draw her a bath. Once the scent of lavender reached her nose, Harry was there, bringing her towards the tub. He vanished all of their clothing and eased her into the heat of the water, adjusting her so that he could sit behind her.

"You knew."

"I did."

Hermione closed her eyes and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering. As it was, tears began to stream down her cheeks. At least they were silent this time.

Neither of them said anything until they got out of the tub once the water had cooled. Tentatively, she used her wand to dry herself off and nearly wept all over again when her magic responded without any sort of hesitation. It was when they were sitting on the bed a few minutes later that Hermione finally turned to him and asked for the details.

"The night I took your notes to him, he just asked to look over them," he began, staring down at his hands in his lap. "He came to me a few days later saying that so long as you agreed, he would do it."

Hermione recalled the short conversation with James in their living room. For the life of her, she couldn't think of anything that pointed to him coming to this conclusion.

"It was the night before the ritual. He sent an owl to me at work and asked for me to meet him before he came home." He took a deep breath and Hermione slid closer to him. She twined their hands together and laid her head on his shoulder. "He told me that he was impressed with your research, but he still wasn't convinced a triad comprised of familial magic would work."

Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip and squeezed Harry's hand in hers.

"He said he had been doing his own research and consulted with Healer Arryn. That he had found a secondary method that would take away the curse completely." Harry's inhale was shakier than the last and she could feel him trembling at her side. "I told him you wouldn't go for it so he…" his voice cracked as he tightened his hold on her hand even more. "He made me swear an Unbreakable Vow."

Tears slipped from Hermione's eyes and she could tell from the sniffling beside her that he was crying too.

"Had we not already completed the bond," he mumbled, turning to use his other hand to stroke her hair. "Had I known about this; I would have done the same thing."

Hermione swallowed hard and shuddered. She knew that to be the truth.

"He told me that he should have died the same night my mother did. That it should have been his life that was sacrificed to save us, not the other way around. He said-" He stopped short to get his breathing under control. "He said this was his chance to make it right."

It took quite some time for the two of them to be calm again. Once they were, they had moved beneath the covers to lay down. She had her head on his chest with his arms wrapped around her. One hand played with her curls while the other drew abstract patterns along her skin.

"What exactly did he do?" she asked, desperate for answers.

"While you called upon the bond we had formed, he called upon the curse. Our bond kept you alive so he could take the curse away from you and become its new host. Since he had exhausted so much of his core and didn't have any of the precautions in place…"

His voice trailed off with a sigh and Hermione's heart broke anew.

"It is _not_ your fault," Harry murmured, sensing her thoughts again. "He wanted to do this, Hermione. For you. For _us_."

It was possible that one day Hermione would no longer drown in the guilt James' death brought her. That one day, she would understand the sacrifice he had made and not be made at him for making it. One day, she would promise him to not let his death be in vain.

But today…

Today she would let it tear her asunder.

* * *

A little over a week later, they laid James to rest in the cemetery in Godric's Hollow beside Lily.

Their friends and family had been devastated to learn the news and had guessed the reason why Harry and Hermione had gathered them together was not for a joyous occasion. They only wanted to say it once. The pair had come up with a reason for his death that was akin to the truth, but without the sordid details. They both agreed that no one needed to know exactly what happened that night.

Whatever the reason, James died a hero.

For the first month following his death, Harry and Hermione both resumed visits with Healer Arryn. For the first week, they were every day. After the funeral, they were every other, and by the end of the month, they were down to bimonthly checks. And that was only because Hermione was still in denial.

She was grateful that neither Healer Arryn or Harry said anything about wanting to keep up with the visits. She was sure she wouldn't keep making them forever; that she would eventually make peace with her denial. Their magic had returned overnight and every time a diagnostic spell was ran, it came back clean.

But at her first bimonthly check up after being curse-free for six weeks, Hermione saw a flicker of surprise in Healer Arryn's eyes. "What is it?" she asked, her body tensing up as she prepared for the worst.

Even Harry moved closer so he could grab Hermione's hand. "Is it back?"

Healer Arryn shook her head, still in a daze as her charmed quill made notes on the chart hovering beside her. She lifted her gaze to Harry first and then Hermione before smiling faintly. "The curse is still gone, but your body has gone back to playing hostess again."

Hermione and Harry both turned their heads towards each other at the same time; worry furrowing their brows. Slowly they moved back to look at Healer Arryn and Hermione's breath caught with confusion at the hope in the healer's eyes.

"You're pregnant, Hermione."

* * *

Hermione's pregnancy had been perfectly textbook from start to finish. Even labor was over faster than she ever thought possible. While she had been recovering from the day, they were visited by all their loved ones. She wasn't the slightest bit jealous when they fawned more over her daughter than they did her. She rather enjoyed the sight of her being only a few hours old and already more loved than she would know what to do with.

It was later that night after everyone had left that Harry and Hermione finally had a moment to themselves. He was sitting behind her; his legs bracketed outside of hers while she held the baby in her arms. She leaned back against him and placed her head on his shoulder; closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent of freshly mowed grass and spearmint toothpaste.

"Are we going to tell anyone?" he asked.

It hadn't been a huge surprise when they had asked Healer Arryn the day they found out she was with child if there was a way to determine paternity with magic. She had simply smiled at them and told them she knew that would be something they asked about and that she had already checked. Harry was a match, but only in a familial way. Which meant the child growing in her womb belonged to his father. The man who had gave his life to save theirs.

It turned out he had one final gift of life to give.

Jamie Potter.

Hermione moved to brush her lips over the top of her daughter's dusting of dark curls, smiling against the soft skin of her head. "No," she whispered after a moment. "I don't think anyone needs to know but us."

Harry reached up to brush her own curls off to one side so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. "I agree," he murmured. "We don't need anyone judging us while we raise _our_ daughter. It's none of their business."

They had already discussed, at length, how Harry felt about raising a child that was technically his half sibling, but would be calling him father. And he assured her at every turn that it didn't bother him. That he or she would know what a great man James was and how he had saved her life so she could bring them into the world.

In the event they had to tell Jamie the truth, they decided they would, but until then, it would remain between them.

When Jamie opened her eyes, Hermione gazed into the hazel spheres and smiled. Knowing a part of James would still be with them was more than she could have asked for.

And for the first time since James had taken her curse upon himself, Hermione finally felt free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys know the drill by now...you know that I'm not the least bit sorry about offing a character. :) I hope you all still love me as much as I love you! This was always intended to be a short fic (I really just wanted the excuse to write a Harmony and Jamione smut scene...with a smidge of plot). Thank you all for the reads/reviews/favorites/follows on this one and just know, there's always new content on the horizon!
> 
> If you would like a head's up as to what's coming, come on over and join my FB group: madrose_writing


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